


In Which Harpy Is A Precious Child Who Needs Emotional Support

by Goldenwolfmidna



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Swearing, and they have bad names, everyone is a person with birb wings, harpy is shit at math, high school?, sue me, there are band kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenwolfmidna/pseuds/Goldenwolfmidna
Summary: Harpy- a small-winged human, has always been alone. She's used to it, but when she's not, it's a tad odd for her. Osprey- the larger-winged, more popular girl- has always been surrounded by people who don't quite understand what she means, but when she finally meets someone who understands her, it's rather weird.--In other words, Harpy has a crush on Osprey and doesn't realize it's mutual because they're both hormonal teens
Relationships: Harpy Marsden/Osprey Rutters, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 1





	In Which Harpy Is A Precious Child Who Needs Emotional Support

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've had on the backburner for a long time. I love these children and would die for them

[Chapter 1]

I walk into the school, a quiet sigh escaping my lips as students flow around me. They all ignore me or shoot glares, making me grip my satchel tighter as I walk around, trying to find my first class.  
Tucking my wings closer to my back, I turn into the lunchroom, crowded with freshmen and sophomores. Another quiet sigh as I pass by, feeling my wings grow ever smaller as I see them all chatting. It’s depressing- I want that.  
Sucks to suck, dude. Get going. I tell myself condescendingly, glancing down at my phone and reading off the room number- A202. Second floor, B porch. I think I can get there.  
With another roll of my eyes, I begin pushing through the crowd to get to the stairs. It’s not a hard journey, but wings hit my face as teenagers erupt in laughter and cheers. Brushing this aside, I shove wings and arms aside, running up the stairs to the relative calmness of the upper level. It’s much quieter, with a few groups of what look to be seniors glaring at me as I pass and juniors erupting in laughter at some joke- or me, my mind adds.  
I see the door to my room after a few minutes of searching, prompting me to go in and find my seat. A bright yellow room greets me, with a few kids inside on their phones, one or two glancing up at me. Math posters hang from the wall, as well as a shelf full of textbooks and calculators. No teacher or seating chart, so I dump my bag on a chair at the back of the class and leave to go get a look at the library.  
Hopping off the balcony, I extend my wings and glide down, a bad habit I honestly ought to break. One day they’re gonna be too small to do that, and I’m going to break my neck. Thankfully, though, at the moment they’re just small, but can still support my gliding weight.  
I land among the bookshelves, folding the wings quickly and checking for feathers. There are none I see, and that’s reassuring. Means no one can pretend to be my lover or something.   
Reassuring.  
I walk up to a shelf, eyes flicking through all the books stacked on the wood and eventually settling on one. I pick it up- it’s the fictional tale of a human like us, who was transported to a wingless world, where their golden eagle wings were the sign of a god-like being. Seems interesting enough, so I pick it up and bring it to the librarian’s desk, who seems surprised to see anyone.  
“Um- can I check this out?” I slide the book over the counter, to which the librarian nods.  
“Enter your ID there,” she gestures towards a small machine, “and I’ll get this checked out for you.” Glasses that were previously precariously balanced on her nose slide off and hit the desk as she leans forward to check out the book. She doesn’t seem to mind, handing me back the book and then picking them up.  
“Thank you.” She says to me as I hear a loud ding!, announcing there are two minutes until class starts.   
“You’re welcome.” I thank the librarian and dart upstairs, back into my classroom. It’s fuller now, most students standing around and chatting. I see a few people I know, but none of them like me. Think a few hate me, in fact.  
I sit down at the fake wood desk I chose, and dump the bag on the floor, keeping it half-hidden under the desk as I crack open the book I just checked out. The pages crackle with age, and it seems much more frail than most books I read. I’ll have to be extra careful.  
“Um, hey, can I sit here?” A voice breaks me out of my reading, and I glance up with a blank look on my face. This person has no idea who I am, what I’ve done. I’m surprisingly okay with that. I want a new start, and finally getting out of the hellhole that we called middle school was step one.  
The face looking back at me is pale, with large brown eyes. Their nose is nice, and their face isn’t quite symmetrical, which is different than what I’m used to. She has brown hair, put up in a messy bun, and several strands hang in front of her face.  
I give a shrug as an answer. She seems to interpret this as a yes, as she plops down in the seat and I notice her wings are barely larger than my own, something I haven’t seen in a long time. I wouldn’t comment- that’d be rude.  
“I’m Osprey!” The girl chirps, and I give a small sigh. She was an extroverted person- go figure. And probably popular, she certainly looks like it, what with a slightly muscular build and a posture that shows she cares more than me. Granted, I’m always slouching, so not much has to be done.  
“Hello. I’m Harpy.” I reply back in a flat voice that I hope would clue her in that I don’t really want to talk. I turn back to the book, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as the second bell rings, signalling the start of the day.  
A tall guy walks into the room, large finch wings on his back as he turns to us. I can already tell I won’t much care for him. He’s practically glaring at us all, scouring us for anything out of the ordinary- and I’m a target, as I’m reading already.  
“Put away your books and phones.” He says clearly, the first part emphasised much more than the latter. “And get into your seats. We’ll begin roll call in a moment.” The sound of people shuffling around meets my ears as I carefully place the book in my bag.  
“I am Mr. Hale. I will be your Geometry teacher for the year. For our first project, we will be making name tags so you can learn your deskmates’ names, but we will only do this after roll. When I say your name, please say ‘here’ or ‘present’.”  
I tune out all of roll other than my name. “Harpy Marsden.” Mr. Hale says, glancing around the room at each and every one of us.  
“Here.” I say, raising my hand as everyone else had.  
“Harpy Marsden?” He says again, seemingly ignoring me.  
“Present.” I speak louder this time. “I’m over here.”  
“Don’t sass me, girl.” He replies, then moves on. A few giggles ensue from the class at my embarrassment, but I note Osprey is not one of the aforementioned laughers.  
Well. Damn. Day one, five minutes in and we’re already fucking up. This’ll be great.  
“Osprey Rutters.” Mr. Hale says.  
“Here.” I note that Osprey said it at the same volume I did the first time round and he just nods and moves on.  
“I’ve heard Hale isn’t great.” The voice comes from Osprey, a quiet whisper. “Guess he chooses favorites based on appearance. Sorry he doesn’t like you.”  
I shrug. “It’s fine. Used to it.” Osprey looks disbelieving, but nods.  
Why- how does she- huh. Am I just that shit at lying? She barely fucking knows me and she already thinks I’m nto okay- and I’m not, but not the point.  
I get a piece of paper handed to me, as well as a handful of markers by a kid I know, unfortunately. He gives a small sneer before handing the next piece to Osprey, as well as more markers.  
I begin writing my name- on the yellow paper, I choose an orange marker and spell it out. Harpy M. Looking at that in satisfaction, I begin drawing flowers and vines around the edges, getting so caught up in it that I spend all of class doing this instead of looking over the syllabus.  
Osprey hands me a spare copy a minute before the bell rings.  
“Thanks.” I tuck it into a red folder I’d be using for math.  
“You seem cool. Where are you sitting for lunch.” Lunch? I don’t know, I figured I’d find some secluded spot and read.  
“I- um-” I fumble for a moment. “The roof. Why?”  
She seems disappointed. “Oh. Um. You seemed chill and so I was going to invite you to The Table- but if you have plans that’s fine-”  
“I’ll join y’all.” Not like I have much better to do- maybe I’ll make friends this year? “Where’ll you be?”  
“Oh. Um. I think in the area- down there?” She gestures with her hands vaguely. “I’ll show you.” She begins walking, and me, having nothing to do, pick up my bag and follow her downstairs, to a place by the bottom of the stairs. A large room full of vending machines and tables.  
I nod as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to go, um, bye.” I hastily skitter off to my next class. Biology. Always a boring class, but I go to it regardless.  
\--  
My next two classes pass with almost no interesting things, and now it’s time for lunch. Thrilling. I’ll be alone- wait. No. I’ll be at The Table with Osprey.  
Rolling my eyes and walking over to it, I notice she’s there with a swan-winged boy, a goldfinch boy, and a duck boy.  
“...and that’s why communism is the right choice!” I hear Sawn Boy say to the rest of the table, and they all look a little frustrated.  
“Wait, who’s the new chick?” Goldfinch says, glancing up at me as I look at Osprey in a confused way.  
“I invited her, Finch. You can sit by me, if you want.” Osprey explains to Goldfinch Boy, then speaks to me.  
I nod silently and sit down by the girl. My wings brush hers and that makes me flinch, but she doesn’t seem to mind and shit I liked that frick fuck god no please-  
“So, um, introduce yourselves.” Osprey demands of the group.  
Finch- the short goldfinch boy with scruffy brown hair- goes first. “I’m Finch. I like acting, singing, and shit like that.”   
“Mallard. I play clarinet.” The tall boy with glasses says. “And Osprey has a bias against clarinets, don’t listen to her.”  
“Oh. Um. Yeah. We’re all band kids.” Osprey turns to me in explanation. “I play tuba, he’s trumpet-” a hand waved at Swan Boy- “and the rest aren’t here yet.”  
“Fuck off- I don’t play anything.” A darker skinned boy with only one arm- odd- walks up to the table. “I’m Jay, new kid.”  
“Jacamar.” A new kid with shaggy blonde hair walks up with his backpack, dumping it on the seat and sitting next to Jay.  
“I’m Swan. I’m the trumpet.” Swan boy says, with what seems to be an agitated flap of his wings. Or at least to me, it looks agitated. If it would have been me, it would have shwom my agitation.  
Wait why does he not like me what am I doing-  
Swan walks over to Osprey and says something to her, to which she sighs and gives a quick sign- new. I’m thrilled my research is paying off. A nod from him and he walks back to his seat.  
“So, um, why’d you invite me here?” I tap Osprey’s shoulder to ask the question.   
“Oh. You seemed cool and not an asshole.” She replies. She pauses a moment and I see her face redden slightly. “And, y’know, we get lonely here.”  
“Got it. I think. So um, what do y’all do?” I ask, one of my wings spread in front of me so I can fidget with my feathers, a nervous habit of mine.  
“Not whatever you’re doing.” Osprey says in a joking fashion. She then, with some hesitation, moves my hand off my wing, stopping me from prying my feathers out.  
I flinch as soon as she touches my hand, but I let her move it. “Question?”  
“Sure.” She says it like she’s known me- I don’t want her to know me.  
“Are- are we friends? Like, y’know?” I stutter. I don’t know what I want her to say.  
“Um. If you want to be?” She says.  
“Okay. Cool.” I shrug off the feelings that rise, the ones of sadness and shame and disappointment. “I have to go. Um. Yeah.”  
She looks at me weird, but I pick up my bag and calmly walk to the door to the field outside. As soon as I’m out, I’m darting around, looking for a roof to land on.  
There.  
I’m glad I have so much experience getting onto tall places with minimal lift. Without too much effort, I climb onto the roof of the building housing what I assume is the sports stuff.  
Why did I think I’d have a friend or even an acquaintance? No, no, no, I’m me, a fucking failure.  
I sit there, wings wrapped around me, thinking about all of this. I want a hug- really, more than anything- and watch everyone walking and flying around.  
Happy.  
“Yo! There- god. What’s with the running away?” I know the voice after just one day.  
“I like being alone. How’d you get up here?”  
“I flew. Or- um- hop- glided- climbed?”  
“Not even gonna ask.” I turn to Osprey. “Why’re you here?”  
“Just- ugh. You seem cool and not like the guys at the table. Can I sit here with you?”  
“Sure.” I bite back a retort. Be nice. You want a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are loved, as are kudos~


End file.
